Chris Marshall: Local angle gone, but trip still perfect

SAN FRANCISCO — I was sent here specifically to cover Topekan Gary Woodland at the U.S. Open.

He missed the cut after two days of the major championship, which is about the worst thing that could happen to someone who planned to write about him for five.

Traveling across the country to watch athletes compete is the closest thing sportswriters have to business trips, and from a business standpoint, this trip was a lot like flying to Tokyo, giving a big presentation to investors, then finding out nobody in the room speaks English.

It wasn’t exactly an ideal turn of events.

At the same time, it’s hard to complain when your job description includes watching golf on an ocean-side course in California. Phil rallied to make the cut, Tiger reclaimed his once-regular spot at the top of major leaderboards, and former Kansas State golfer Aaron Watkins played well enough during the first two rounds that the trip still might be newsworthy from a local-interest standpoint.

On top of all that, the little time I’ve had away from "work" at The Olympic Club has been very well spent. After watching Woodland play a Wednesday practice round and filing my story and photographs, I decided to kill time by going to the Giants’ game against the Astros.

Those familiar with baseball now know the significance of this game.

I left The Olympic Club about the same time Matt Cain was taking the mound for San Francisco in the first inning. After a convenient 3-mile bus ride, 8-mile subway ride and 2-mile run, I arrived at AT&T Park in the top of the seventh.

I spotted a man hunched near the corner of a closed ticket window. In his hands were a box of all his finest possessions and two tickets to the game.

He may have been homeless, or possibly a Raiders fan. It isn’t easy to distinguish between the two.

Either way, I handed over $5 in a transaction that led me to believe the seats were in the upper deck, probably in the back corner of the stadium. A second glance at the ticket showed I had a seat in the front row of a suite.

Great, I thought, this guy just sold me a counterfeit ticket.

My suspicions quickly were eased when I was ushered through the gate and into an area of the stadium protected by guards. One of them checked my ticket a second time, though she seemed preoccupied by what was happening in the game.

Gregor Blanco had just made a diving catch and the concourse reverberated with an explosion of cheers from the fans above. Clever San Franciscoans have since termed Blanco’s play "The Catch."

I continued up an elevator and made my way into Suite 38, which was stocked with sandwiches, beer, corporate bigwigs in suits and now me, in jeans and a Nike jacket, which I tore during the previously mentioned 2-mile run.

My fellow suitemates seemed too excited to tell me I wasn’t supposed to be there, and I quickly realized it was because San Francisco’s Cain had 12 strikeouts and a perfect game through seven innings.

Cain closed the deal, finishing with a career-high 14 strikeouts and the first perfect game in the Giants’ 129-year history. High fives were exchanged, hugs were shared and fans began passing around iPhones, asking for pictures to commemorate the less-than-once-in-a-lifetime occasion.

I came to San Francisco to see Woodland but instead might witness Tiger’s 15th major championship, the resurrection of his quest to catch Jack Nicklaus.

Giants fans came to AT&T Park hoping for a good game against the Astros and ended up watching one of baseball’s rarest feats.

You don’t always get what you expect in sports, and sometimes that’s what makes them so perfect.

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